These Waking Hours.

Work has been overwhelming.

The June holidays have arrived but I'm chugging on the moolah train.

I've lost track of time completely;

Forgetting that D is due to return from Norway on 15 June is a cardinal sin, but to forget that My Lil Twin's departure date is 21 June is downright unforgivable.

I'm hard on myself, forging ahead despite the presumed month of rest. I'm so clogged & bogged that the concept of time has been eroded.

I don't know why I am pushing myself to the extremes this time round. I don't know why I am not resting. Perhaps I am escaping from the emotions that arise from memories of You. It is a salubrious crutch.

As sleep finally beckoned at the crack of dawn, I spoke to God,

"Dear God, are You sure that it is ___ ? I do not understand. Perhaps You'd sent him away so that in the midst of being broken, he'd learn a thing or two, be changed and emerge renewed. Perhaps it is to refine and mould him to be a better person so that when he returns, he would be even more awesome than he already was to begin with. But I don't believe it, God. I don't believe a single ounce that it can be _____. Circumstances do not permit this."
My fingers trailed across the pages carelessly and found this -

'"The vision of the evenings and mornings that has been given you is true, but seal up the vision for it concerns the distant future." I, Daniel, was worn out. I lay exhausted for several days. Then I got up and went about the king's business. I was appalled by the vision; it was beyond understanding.'
~ Daniel 8:26-27
I fled.

Strident strokes define the horizon yet again.

I have two long documents to prepare for work. It will probably keep me up all night as I scuttle to fulfil this commitment.

A tear falls as I bury the hurts.

I have a tonne of paperwork to forage. I have no time to dwell in this perpetual sadness.

I wish it were You, and yet, it cannot be You. It must not.